


Saved

by wincechesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wincechesters/pseuds/wincechesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester remembers Hell. He imagines being saved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saved

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this incredible fanart](http://wincechesters.tumblr.com/post/59009726219). 
> 
> Un-beta'd; all mistakes are mine. I wrote this a long time ago and never posted it here, but since today is September 18th, I decided to post it now. Happy 'Dean Winchester is Saved' day. ♥

Dean remembers everything about Hell. He need only close his eyes to hear the screams of pain—his own and those of thousands upon thousands of others—and somehow, over the din, the sound of his own flesh being rent by Alastair’s knives, the steady _drip, drip_ of his own blood. He remembers the smell of vomit and feces and charred flesh, and the coppery tang of blood. He remembers pain so absolute that he wished daily to finally succumb to his wounds and die, but he never could. He remembers relief when he finally gave in, and then, worse than all the other tortures, crushing guilt when he carved into his own victim, her screams of pain searing his ears in his memory worse than anything else he remembers enduring there.

He remembers Hell but he does not remember his rescue, only waking in his grave alone, clawing his way to the surface, wondering how he could possibly be free and whole.

But sometimes, when the sound and stench and pain of the Pit filling his head is too strong, his mind creates its own memory, a balm to his hurts and his fears.

In this false imagining, Dean’s savior appears as he knows him, with the familiar visage of the vessel Jimmy Novak. Dean looks up from his torture, tears rolling down his face as his victim screams, and sees Castiel for the first time, the unkempt dark hair, the dry, plush lips, sharply carved cheekbones and eyes so blue that they can’t possibly be real. He holds a shining silver blade, wet with the blood of the many hundreds of demons he fought through to reach his goal, and in Dean’s fevered conception, Castiel is beautiful and terrible and the best thing he has ever beheld in all his years on earth and in the Pit.

His hand grips Dean’s shoulder hard, searing its mark into his flesh, but this pain is different from the others he endured here; this is a relief, an awakening. Then all the pain is gone, washed away, and the shadow of wings passes over Dean's face—

 

 

—and he knows that he is saved.


End file.
